


Preternatural Assassin

by Raven_At_The_Writing_Desk



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Sex with gods, Were-Creatures, Werecats, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_At_The_Writing_Desk/pseuds/Raven_At_The_Writing_Desk
Summary: I am experimenting here, let's see how this goes.
Relationships: Cayrd/Frias
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. An Assassin Comes to Town

Frias Dagalak was not supposed to be here.

Philadelphia was not the beaches of Maui, where he could’ve been enjoying a long-delayed and much-needed vacation with as many tropical drinks as he could suck down. Instead, he was working an emergency job that he couldn’t say no to. 

“No chance for rescheduling,” Frias muttered angrily as he navigated the midday Philly traffic to find a parking spot close to his destination. 

That’s what he got for answering his cell phone right as he arrived at the Washington Dulles International Airport to start his vacation. He wouldn’t even have answered it if it hadn’t been a special phone. 

He could’ve just gone to Maui. He thought wistfully. All the drinks with little umbrellas he’d have enjoyed, now only a fantasy. Frias had been waiting to try them for years if he was honest. After nine years as an underling assassin at the discretion of the shady group of preternatural individuals, Frias had walked away from the shadows with habits not necessarily suited for civilian life. He’d gone to college, trying to change his life’s focus, but the preternatural assassins guild, an international group under the supervision of an even shadier council, had immediately recruited him when he graduated college. Even though his degree had been in medicine, that only seemed to make him more valuable to the assassins guild. 

Three years of working on his own, and over 100 successful kills, his current jobs mostly amounted to getting dropped into cities both large and small were monsters and demons hid in the shadows. Being an assassin for the preternatural world meant Frias never got easy jobs. He got paid to get his hands and soul dirty, eviscerating demons, taking out shapeshifters, and even humans who got in the way. Hazard bonuses made up a good chunk of his paycheck, but on the day before his vacation? Money wasn’t enough.

“When this is all over, you can go wherever you want. Just get the job done first.” The preternatural guild boss Stakar told him over the Bluetooth connection in the car. “Preferably as quietly as possible.”

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Frias snarled at the dashboard.

Stakar let out a sigh that sounded like static over the speakers. The boss didn’t like Frias much, and frankly, the feelings were mutual. He had his reasons.

“This needs to be far under the radar, or there will be penalties in the pay.”

Frias rolled his eyes as he twisted the steering wheel and shifted the car into reverse, parking in a red zone behind a police car wasn’t ideal, but right now it was his only option.

“As if the pay for this job is any good anyway,” Frias grumbled.

“Do stop complaining, and just get the job done. Are you there yet?”

“I’m about to head to a crime scene,” Frias said, double-checking to make sure he had his fake ID.

“Crime scene?”

“They got another body in the area. This is what I came here for, remember? Dead bodies and missing people?”

As the power died in the car, the call seamlessly reverted back to his cell phone and the wireless headset he had on. He got out of the car, and the June heat hit him hard. He had a moment of regret before his body adapted. He’d been raised in hotter, but he still likes the AC.

Philadelphia was hotter and muggier than DC, but it was still a good 10° cooler than home. Sweat still trickled down the back of his neck, and Frias ran a hand through his messy pink hair. He trimmed the sides short, but it was still long and spiky on the top. He died it magenta pink for so long now, he almost believed that was his natural color.

“Frias,” Stakar annoyed voice cut through his revelry of the heat.

“What?”

“Check in with agent Thomas at the Philadelphia guild after you finished with your crime scene.”

“Is that really necessary? This is my assignment.”

“They’ll provide you with a roof over your head instead of sleeping in your rental car,”

Frias scoffed at that. “I think I’d rather sleep in my rental car than have the guild’s eyes on me at all times. Come up with a better threat.”

“Take the meeting Frias, this isn’t a request.” 

“You know I hate putting on airs, Stakar. If you wanted someone to perform, you could’ve sent someone else.”

“You are the only one I could send,” Stakar said cryptically.

Frias paused at opening up the trunk of the car, his hands clenching into fists. “Was I?” his stomach tightened a bit.

Stakar’s silence reminded him too much of a childhood where answers were never forthcoming. Frias angrily shook his head and yanked the trunk open. The rank air of the used car blasted him in the face. He wrinkled his nose and unzipped a messenger bag pulling out the travel lock-box that contained his automatic GK USP 9 mm tactical pistol. 

“Are we done?” he asked.

“Were done.” Stakar hung up without another word.

Frias entered the code to unlock the box and flipped open the lid revealing the handgun inside. He pulled it easily out of the shaped foam interior and slid a magazine of enchanted bullets home. He kept his body turned to block the line of sight of any casual passerby, not that there were many at the moment. Everyone seemed to be more interested in the police presence further down the street.

He attached the holster to his belt and slid the handgun in, relaxing at the familiar weight of it. Frias let his right arm drop down to his side, fingers brushing over the elaborate warded leather sheath strapped to his thigh. A wickedly curved single-edged 10-inch dagger rested beside him. It was an artifact that had been gifted to him three years ago during a 30-day conflict in the Philippines. He never went anywhere without it these days, not that he had too much of a choice about that either.

He let out a tired sigh and looked down the road to where he was heading. Orders from superiors could be very annoying, but those of the godly persuasion were usually worse. 

Frias grabbed his fake federal badge attached to black leather backing from his messenger bag and hung it around his neck. It tangled with the amulets he wore, the metal charms warm against his skin. He shrugged into a nondescript black nylon jacket and closed the trunk heading up the street to the crime scene.

Curious onlookers had gathered around an apartment building that appeared to be the scene. Frias squinted through curved sunglasses at the crowd and the news vans situated in front outside of the bright yellow police line.

The Philadelphia Preternatural Crimes Bureau held jurisdiction over the murders that had drawn Frias to the city. When he called on the Bureau, pretending to be a special agent, the assistant to Giovanni Castle, chief of the Preternatural Crimes Unit, had requested he keep out of sight of the media. They weren’t ready to announce that the feds were taking over the case, even if that wasn’t really the truth of the matter. Frias had intended to stay out of sight anyway as much as possible. It was one thing to be using a mostly fake alibi for being here, it was another thing entirely to flaunt it.

Frias spun his index finger and a lazy circle while he walked, reaching for a presence deep inside his core. It was the seat of his magic, and he wound it around his finger like a ball of string.

Roughly a quarter of the world’s population could manipulate their Will, truing energy into magic. Children were tested young, with magic running through a range of types and affiliations from various kinds of elemental magic to the more sinister calling of necromancy. Magic was only as strong as a person’s Will, what others would call the soul. Evading magical burnout was impossible some days, but the risk for those classified as mages was lower compared to other magic users.

Mages were the only ones on record who could open their very essence to the rivers and lakes of metaphysical energy running through the earth in the form of lay lines and nexuses. That external natural magic acted as a booster giving them a reach most magic users could never attain on the basis of their will alone. Mages were highly sought after by governments and militaries the world over for their ability to tap into natural magic. In some countries, they were little more than slaves.

Frias hadn’t been conscripted into joining the Filipino Department of the Preternatural, but the pressure he’d felt at a young age to sign the recruitment forms, with his brother’s permission, of course, had felt a lot like not having a choice.

Maybe if he hadn’t been orphaned and his mother had still been alive, things would’ve been different. Perhaps if he hadn’t been magically crippled during the last conflict he’d been in, the nightmare the Ascendency Society unleashed three years ago - he wouldn’t be so bitter.

Frias flexed his fingers, feeling a knuckle pop as he shook out his hands. Magic willed out from his now tainted soul spun itself into a pale glowing blue sphere no bigger than a golf ball. It nestled against the curve of his hand, hidden from sight. The magic globe acted as an anchor for whatever spell or ward Frias needed to call up. His color used to be brighter, but the once vibrant shade had faded to a washed-out hue, it’s dullness of visual reminder to the internal damage he’d suffered during that month of hell on earth.

Frias had lost the reach and strength necessary to tap into a ley line and cast a high-level spell, but he could cast an easy look-away ward in his sleep. The globe pulsed softly with magic, the spell within its pattern creeping into his aura. He pushed his magic outward, the invisible force spreading to the auras of others in the crowd as they passed him by. The look-away ward didn’t make him invisible; it simply kept people’s attention from wandering his way.

He ducked under the yellow do-not-cross tape and entered the apartment building unhindered. He slipped quietly through the lobby, filled with numerous police officers. He pulled off his sunglasses and hooked them over the collar of his pastel purple T-shirt. He blinked to adjust his sight to the dimmer light and took a quick look around

While most of the uniformed officers moved around like they knew what they were doing, a few individuals in plainclothes orbited around a tall man in a suit barking out orders. Frias headed in that direction, figuring the suited man was the one in charge. He had a voice that carried around the room, building up his sheer presence of force, which made Frias assume the man must be Chief Castle. 

“… We can’t do any more here until we get the area secured,” Castle was saying. “Ramirez, get somebody to watch out for that damn Special Agent, my secretary said he should be here soon.

A woman arched an eyebrow in Frias’ direction. She pointed a finger at him, and Castle turned “found Him, chief.”

Castle’s attention zeroed in on Frias, who had just dropped his ward. He stuck out his hand, meeting Castle’s gaze with unblinking blue eyes. “Special Agent Frias Dagalak.” 

Castle shook his hand with a firm grip. “I’m told you were someone with expertise in demons?”

Frias arched an eyebrow curious about the rancor in Castle’s voice that he didn’t bother to hide.

“They’re kind of a specialty of mine.”

Castle gave him a sharp measuring look, “I’ve been on-site for the better part of half a day dealing with this mess. Pardon my irritation.”

Frias glanced up at the ceiling. “I was told you had another body?”

“It’s the eighth one this year. It’s the third one in the past month and a half. The time between the murders is getting shorter. We have no leads, and the crime scenes are very, very messy.” Castle jerked his thumb at the two people standing closest to him. “This is Detective Ramirez and detective Porter. Their lead in this whole mess and report directly to me.” Castle turned his attention to his people “this is our latest FBI liaison.”

Tall and dark, porter nodded hello but didn’t offer his hand. His partner, Ramirez, was about Frias' height and appeared younger than Porter. Her curly dark hair pulled back in a tight French braid. She eyed him with a Frank professional curiosity.

“I’ve never worked with a mage before, the last liaison was a witch.”

Frias shrugged. “Just feed me more often. Where’s the body?”

“Third floor,” Castle said, leading the way. 

The elevator they took was small, and everyone had to squeeze together to fit. Frias noted that despite this, the other three around him. Gave him space. He smirked.

“So what’s the buy-in?” he asked.

“What buy-in?” Porter repeated with just enough confusion in his tone that any other person might fall for it.

“Oh, come on. We all know the PPD hates partnering with the feds. It’s all right if you don’t want to talk about the pool on how long the new guy will last in front of your boss. Just let the book you know I’m good for 100 to see this through.” He grinned, looking straight ahead at the back of castles head.

“You’re that sure of yourself? Ramirez shook her head

Frias flashed her a smile as the elevator came to a shaky stop, and the doors creaked open. “I can always use extra cash.”

As soon as they stepped out of the elevator, the smile on Fries’s face disappeared. His magic responded to the faint traces of the infernal as it always did. The discordant recognition cut against the protective wards that made up his personal shields that contain the taint of his own magic. Layered in his skin and a locked inside his bones, his shields weren’t enough to keep his damaged magic from recognizing was something for any of the infernal realms past the veil had leaked through.

“Well, you’re right about the demons. The whole area contaminated with an infernal taint derived from black magic. “Frias said striding past Castle.

Castle’s clenched his jaw hard enough of the tendons in his neck stood out before he let out an explosive sigh. “Our resident witch hadn’t notified me of this risk yet.”

Frias kept walking dodging past a couple of uniformed cops standing guard in the hallway. “Which isn’t a mage,” he said. “And the taint is barely noticeable. I can sense it, but someone without my abilities would probably miss it.”

“Everyone working in the department carries protective charms. Is that enough to keep my people safe?”

“I guess that all depends on the crime scene.”

Frias had a feeling he’d be dealing with a lot of panicked individuals worried about the crippling stains of black magic on their souls. That wasn’t exactly how any of this worked, but he understood the uninitiated and their worries.

Black magic was illegal for a lot of reasons, not the least of which being most victims of those spells ended up dead. Frias knew that better than most. Aside from being fairly skilled at that form of magic and self, he had survived a premeditated attack and still carried several scars from when he was attacked by a demon that nearly clawed his heart out.

Frias’ affinity to the infernal and demonic was a side effect of that childhood trauma. That little quirk of his magic had made him an asset to his country and the reason he’d been assigned to a special operations force team. His hunting skills meant his mission success rates were high, but it took a toll on Fries’s personal health.

He roused himself from his mental musings and noticed that someone had propped the apartment door open with a potted plant. Frias stepped inside, moving past the tiny kitchen to the living room and its ability centerpiece. He noticed the numbered evidence tag scattered all over the floor and took pains not to knock any over he stopped near the once pristine white couch, staring down at what remained of the victim.

He wasn’t looking at a whole body just pieces left of it. The ceiling resembled ability spatter painting, canopy being the dead man’s eviscerated torso. The rib cage up and ripped open like meaty butterfly wings revealing a now half-empty cavity that was missing a heart and both lungs. Its abdomen was nothing but bloody shreds, intestines spilling out and untangling on the floor.

Strings of muscle clung to the rapidly broken bones jutting out of what remained of each arm. The victim’s legs were bitten clean through with the five, the femur bones smooth as if cut in one motion. Blood saturated nearly every surface as if he’d been dragged off the couch and onto the floor. Random pieces of the man’s body were scattered around, but Frias didn’t see any sign of the missing limbs or organs. He was willing to bet his entire pay for this job; the man had been eaten while he was still alive.

The crime scene unit and the medical examiner. Were carefully working around the body, the state of the victim made their job slightly more difficult than usual, but they seem to be handling it with professional ease.

“How long are you keeping the other bodies before cremation?” Frias asked, wondering if he could look at the others.

“They’re all cremated after two weeks. It’s standard procedure for homicide cases like this. Were not new at our jobs.” Come during said with an irritated sniff.

Frias knew most police forces didn’t like a federal agent coming in and stepping on the toes. He still didn’t like the attitude. Still, in the sense of playing under the radar, he kept his snappy comments to himself.

He pulled out a spare set of gloves and put them on. He always carried latex gloves with him out of habit anymore. He approached the body carefully, keeping clear of anything marked as evidence in the blood pool itself. He crouched down to get a closer look at what was left of the victim's face. The reports he’d managed to unearth on his flight to Philadelphia had contained details the police hadn’t released to the press yet.

The waxy skin of the mutilated face was cold even through the latex gloves. He pulled on an island to get a better look at what would link all of these murders to the others. The astrological sign sliced into delicate skin had been done with such precision that Frias doubted it was the work of the demon who had ripped in the and eaten this man.

He touched a finger to the sign that represented the immortal God Scorpious, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut. In his experience, nothing good ever came from magic called on the gods.

Frias couldn’t sense any magic left behind in the body itself. Whatever spell the signs had been cast for, it was nearly gone now, you’re the only remnants were the hellish taint in the air. 

“Are the signs the only thing connecting the murders?” freest asked, looking up at Castle.

“The current MO is half-eaten bodies in the signs. There aren’t any other links we can find between the victims. There is no consistency in their backgrounds. We’ve only found their bodies on the side of the town, though.”

“Can you be certain there only been found in this area? are they locals?” 

“Our department has jurisdiction over the entire city. We lived in our affiliates outside of Philadelphia, but we haven’t received any reports back.” Castle said.

“Any signs of forced entry?” 

“None. The door was Locke, and so were all the windows except the one holding the air-conditioning unit. But there’s no evidence it was removed.” Ramirez said.

“The guy’s wife was a nurse and came home after an overnight shift at pen medical. She found him like this,” Porter added. “She had a nervous breakdown and was removed from the premises.”

Frias settled his weight back on his heel, still studying the body. “Hopefully not too far. I need to make sure she’s clean of magical residue before she can be let go. You said you ran off the other agents who worked with you previously, what were their conclusions?”

“Nothing helpful,” Castle said with a snort. “The last one suggested we look in the hell hounds and get animals controlled help.”

“I guarantee the Emmy report for this victim will be the same as all the others in the case. The bodies half-eaten and signs are carved into their eyes.” Frias stood up and stripped off his gloves, carefully folding them in on each other than tossing them into a biohazard been nearby before heading closer to the other three. “Killings like this, especially with the signs, means these individuals were targeted for a specific reason.”

Castle studied him with an unreadable look for a long moment. “You’re talking assassination.”

Frias shrugged as if the word meant nothing. “Assassination gets you just as dead as murder.”

“That’s more than the last guy gave us,” Ramirez grumbled.

Which surprised Frias a little. He was familiar with the corruption that was inside the actual federal agency that he was pretending to be part of. It was something they’ve been trying to carve out for a while. He was a little surprised they hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet.

Frias crossed his arms over his chest’s charms clinking softly against his skin when he did so. “I’ll need to see the full file on these cases. I also need to make sure no one else is leaving wit possible magical residue. Who else do we know is been in contact with the body?”

“We’ll get you the names,” Castle said with a grimace. He waved a hand at the crime scene and everything in it. “Give me your take on all of this.”

“I don’t know what the signs relate to yet, but the half-eaten this in the magic, at the very least, you have a demon problem.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Porter muttered.

Castle let out a heavy sigh and gestured at his detectives. “Both of you are in charge until everyone clears out. I’m going downstairs to feed the press. Make sure that Special Agent Dagalak has a chance to talk with everyone he needs. He and I will be heading out after I get done with the press.”

“Who are we going to see?” Frias guest.

“Someone who might be able to shed some light on this mess, if we’re lucky.” 

  
  
  
  



	2. Bad Fortune Favors the Curious

What Frias had desperately needed once he had finished his investigation of the crime scene was something sweet to eat. He drove from the airport directly to the crime scene and had paused to get anything resembling food on the way. Frias carried more than one lousy habit home with him from the war, and his cravings for sweets when times got stressful was one. It contributed to the slight choppiness of his figure that he sometimes was self-conscious about. But not enough to stop his sweet tooth. 

With nothing more that he could do at the crime scene, Frias left and trailed Castle through the Philadelphia and spaghetti bowl streets. He bit into a candy bar he’d stashed in his carry on as he followed Castle. The sugar and chocolate soothed his nerves a bit as he dodged Philly’s notorious drivers. They ended close to the Liberty Bell, though the new Museum and its symbol of American freedom were not their destinations. 

Frias parked behind Castle’s unmarked police car in a paid parking only parking lot. They walked to a nondescript office building that entrance was located on the opposing street. The building’s powerful protective wards glittered at the very edge of Frias’ vision. He got out of his car, curious about the place and wondered how much money they spent to set what could almost be called war level defenses on a public building.

Castle looked over at him as he shut his own car door. “Hide your ID badge.” 

Frias raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. He tucked his fake ID badge into his back pocket, but he didn’t leave his sidearm or dagger behind. He cast his look-away ward again and looked up to see Castle was already halfway to the building entrance. Frias hurried to catch up.

Crossing the warded thresholds made Frias’ fingers tingle the wards didn’t flare and warning to his presence. Frias’ personal shields did what they were supposed to do and kept his tainted magic contained, though his bones vibrated as the wards carved on them reacted to the strong magic. 

He was glad to get out of the midday heat and into the air-conditioned lobby. Castle flashed his badge of the security guards on duty upfront and spoke briefly with them to gain access to the building. Frias ran his eyes over the directory of companies residing at the address. He noted there was only one and a small law office.

“He’s with me,” Castle snapped as Frias tried to avoid the metal detectors at the entrance. The guards let him pass, but they watched him closely. 

The few people coming and going into the building were a bit younger than Frias would expect in a business district. They were dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts, though they were high-end and very stylish. Frias would know, his own off-duty wardrobe ran high and taste in price tag. Currently, though, he wasn’t wearing any expensive sneakers, just well-worn combat boots, which made him stand out more than he was used to. Usually, his preferred close in pink hair made him the odd man out. This time his dress down casualness and tucked in ball cap made them stick out.

Frias stepped into the elevator with Castle and noted the button that he picked. “16th floor,” Frias said conversationally as the doors closed. “Wyrd World?”

“We’re in the heart of the preternatural stomping grounds. Wyrd World owns the building and rents a couple of the lower levels to other companies.” Castle explained.

“Why are we here?” 

“As I said, I have a meeting with my favorites fortune teller,” Castle smirked at Frias, who let his face rest in its default blank state. 

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened on a large, mostly open work floor. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and circling all sides of the building, competing with the lights overhead. Long tables instead of cubicles offered up shared workspaces broken up only by short dividers. Randomly placed coffee tables and comfortable chairs posted numerous people working diligently on laptops and tablet computers.

Half of the people working had headphones or earbuds of some variety on their heads. Several of them bopping along to whatever music they were listening to. Frias could see a football table in one interior room; I was clearly a gaming area. Several flat-screen TVs and cabinet arcade games flanked the walls. Another clear walled room boasted a small cafe-like setting with racks of junk food and health food in equal portions, as well as an operating coffee bar being ransacked by several employees for an afternoon pick me up.

Wyrd World was one of the largest preternatural social media companies. The social media platform incorporated the usual updates, photos, and videos. The software and hardware used to run the site were warded in a way to rival even the preternatural assassins guild online securities. 

Frias wasn’t a fan of either. He didn’t like having details of his life up on the Internet. He didn’t believe in the security of the cloud. It irritated him that he had to bank that way, though he never had a mishap with his pay. He still didn’t like the idea that somewhere out there somewhere was a record of those transactions. Maybe he was paranoid, maybe he was just getting old.

Frias latent magic recognized most of the employees wandering throughout the floor space as either magic users in their own right or some other form of the pure natural community. Few people were open about their status as magic users or the supernatural. Most normal people were aware that they existed but were not used to interacting with them knowingly. There were several court cases that had gone through unsuccessfully suing for equal rights when hiring the per natural. Frias doubted they see equal footing anytime soon in the legal system. That was fine with him though, it was one of the few reasons he had a job.

Castle ignored the curious eyes of the employees as he walked forward. They walked past a multimedia capable conference room on the way towards the corner office situated behind a partially frosted glass wall. 

Frias tried to remember anything he could about the company’s owner and founder. He knew they were young, but most of the social media entrepreneurs were. He also knew the company was a multi-million dollar property and assumed the CEO reap those rewards. But it was Castle’s mention of ‘fortune teller’ that triggered something deep in Frias’ memory.

There were a handful of individuals who would be considered prophets by the old standards. Those people were particularly dangerous to free us and his cover stories. He had been warned by Stakar of several of the better-known individuals for safety reasons. The general public, both preternatural and normal, may not know that the owner of Wyrd World was a prophet, but Castle apparently did.

Frias swore inwardly. You should not have come unprepared. He kept his expression neutral despite the sudden desire to run screaming in the back of his mind. He was aware of every eye on them as they walked the length of the company floor to the office of the CEO, Donna Williams. 

The tall, strikingly handsome man who opened the office door was clearly not Donna. Recognition burned briefly through Frias’ magic with a specific flavor that he recognized as were-creature. 

were-creatures, like humans, were native to the middle realm. They weren’t like the infernals or fey who had to cross through the veils that hid their realms from this plane. Back in the murky annals of oral history, were-creatures used to be considered humans who were cursed to change into wild animals. They were feared and ostracized by nearly every society they belonged to in the past. Their superior strength and animal-like traits had been seen as a sleeping power by rulers in the past.

A Gaelic mage had been wise enough to create an entire army of werewolves. Calling on the power of the great white she-wolf, he tried to subvert the natural power of the werewolves. His attempt at magical control backfired during a particularly nasty battle with the Romans. Though his side had won, the mage himself had been destroyed by the pack, who promptly took over all of his holdings and declared their leader the new King.

The Gaelic pack declared themselves the Pack of the White Lady, a reference to the full moon, and over time the famous pack was simply shortened to the White Pack, and they were the most famous pack in Europe. Though every country that Frias could think of had packs and were-creatures of their own as well. Still, the life of a were-creature wasn’t an easy one.

Frias couldn’t tell what kind of creature the guy carried in his soul, but he knew the guy would have enhanced senses. Frias’ bones anchored wards that kept the taint of his soul under control with the added side effect of damping his own power signature to the point where most people couldn’t even tell he was even a magic-user. If they did, they never figured him for a powerful mage, usually just a hedge witch of some variety. 

were-creatures were another thing entirely. Their sense of smell and other natural instincts gave them an edge that there wasn’t a lot of ways to hide from.

“Happy,” Castle setting greeting.

“Castle.”

Happy carried himself with a confident manner that didn’t promise violence but did promise eat and any fight someone else started. Frias’ gaze flipped up and down Happy automatically checking for weapons and finding none. Not like the man needed one since he was a were-creature.

Happy was handsome though, dark-haired and dark-eyed. He was the kind of guy Frias had been hoping to pick up on Maui while he vacationed. Someone to pass the nights with and forget about everything else. It only further irked him to be reminded that his week of debauchery in paradise wasn’t going to happen.

Happy’s sharp eyes jumped from Castle to Frias, his eyes narrowing in his lip curling. “Who’s he?”

“He’s new,” Castle said, easily coming to a stop in front of the doorway that Happy blocked.

“What happened to your other detectives?”

“Not your worry,” Castle gestured behind Happy. “You mind letting us through?”

The snarl in Happy’s lips broadened, showing how much he minded. A soft voice from inside the office spoke up. “Let the men Happy.” A woman’s voice called.

Happy stiffly stepped out of the way, allowing them to enter the spacious modern office. Donna Williams - one of the few true prophets in the United States - was much younger than Frias had expected. She looked like she barely broke her 20s, with stylishly cut brown hair and sharp hazel eyes that watched them with an eerie light inside. 

Frias didn’t envy Donna. Mages, especially combat mages like him, were at a higher risk of dying on the job than other types of magic users based completely on the types of missions in cases they were given. Prophets, especially true prophets, ran the risk of going dumb deaf and blind. As their power increased in strength, they were said to lose the ability to see color here sounds or speak until the only thing they could interact with was the future becoming slowly locked inside their own minds. Most went crazy after their slow slide into darkness and ended up dead, usually at their own hands.

Frias is magic quickly recognize Happy, but recognition of Donna was slow to register through his awareness. Frias sensed a depth of power that reminded him of the deep blue pools in the Philippines that hid so much below their surface. People avoided those pools out of fear of the unknown spirits and danger. Donna carried that power in her soul, the likes of which Frias didn’t care to mess with.

“It’s alright to leave us alone,” Donna said after a long, tense moment. Happy’s eyes were fixed on Frias. 

“Are you sure?” he clearly didn’t trust him. Smart man Frias thought.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Happy gave Frias one more look over, and his biceps flexed. Frias appreciated the show but was in no way intimidated. Happy stepped out of the office and yanked the door shut with a snap. Castle looked over at Frias. “Is there anything you can do to keep him from eavesdropping?”

Frias nodded. Frias reach the short distance from where he stood to touch the frosted glass that made up the walls of the office. He traced a simple glyph against the glass, his magic following his finger like a pale blue highlighter. He connected the glowing lines together, forcing his power into them. A soft hum washed through the room as if the glass itself was now vibrating, creating a white noise that would keep anyone from listening in on the conversation.

Donna pushed her chair away from the desk and stood up, smoothing down her casual work skirt. It blended with the ‘no formal dress code’ that seems to be the theme of the company, but it was clearly a higher class casual than most of her workers. 

Donna came around the desk and didn’t offer anyone a seat at the chairs or leather couch arranged artfully around her office. She stood a few feet from them, her hands on her hips.

“You’re not supposed to be here till next week,” she said, looking at Castle. He gave her a blank stare, but there was a slight twitch to his eye that Frias noted as a tell.

“Something came up, and we need to talk now,” Castle replied.

“I saw our meeting for next week,” Donna said, slowly repeating herself. “I didn’t see you coming today.” She emphasized her words, which saw Castle blinking in surprise. Merrick’s eyes slid all the way over to into Frias like a scientist with a specimen. “Which means I didn’t see you coming here.”

Frias managed to keep his breathing and heartbeat study. A good lie held up through its good story with both voice and body language. His shields might be able to hide his sense from a were-creature, but there was no way to hide the sound of his heartbeat or the micro twitches of his body language. That was all share practice.

“Maybe you just didn’t see the problem the Castle came here to talk about.” Frias gave her a friendly smile, he was surprisingly good at it, and it took made his boyish face seem open and innocent.

Donna didn’t seem convinced, and her eyes flickered between Castle and Frias.

“I’m assuming you mean the murders that have been in the news lately. I don’t need to be a prophet to know that any case requiring Castle’s attention is why you’re here.”

“We’re prepared to pay whatever price you set for your vision,” Castle said, drawing attention back to himself. “We need a lead on these murders.”

“Murderers? Plural?” Donna asked.

“We got another body today. A good man died for no reason we can figure, just like the others. I’ve got a brand-new missing person case about to blow up in the news. Dealing with Whelan’s wife every day isn’t easy for me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could help.”

“And what about him?” 

Frias arched an eyebrow at the finger pointed at him before smiling friendly at the prophet again. “Do you even have a name?”

“Frias,” he said cheerfully.

“Donna,” Castle said, drawing attention again. “Will you help us?”

Donna stared at Frias for several seconds longer before rubbing her nose with an irritated side. 

“I have a meeting in ten minutes. What you want to know?” 

“It’d be amazing if you could just tell us who the person is killing the people here and leaving astrological signs on the eyes after their death.” Castle blurted. Donna blinked a little surprised, and then her body suddenly went rigid. 

Donna’s eyes filmed over to a silvery gray, and power pulsed over her. It crashed up against Frias’ shields hard, almost physically knocking him back. Donna let out a sharp cry, curving over and covering her face like it might hide what she was seeing. Frias caught her before she fell over completely and dragged her over to the couch. 

She sat heavily, outing her head between her legs and breathing shaky breaths. Frias felt his insides twist a bit. This couldn’t be a good reaction, even if he’d never seen a prophet in action before, Castle’s horrified reaction to the whole scene told him this wasn’t normal. 

Castle came over, kneeling beside Donna. 

“I’ve never seen her do this before,” Castle said, seeming unsure how to comfort the woman. “Do you need a hospital?” 

“I need Happy,” Donna said into her lap. Castle looked torn beaten wanting to press her for her vision and not be a total dick. The good guy in him won, and he jerked his head at the door. Frias went and canceled the silence ward. Happy opened the door as soon as the static sound stopped, took one look at what happed, and stormed over to where Castle was, shoving the other man back. 

“Donna,” He braced her shoulders, and she looked up at him, blood trickling from one eye like a tear. 

“It’s just a bad vision,” She said, looking pale and sick. Happy turned and sailed at Frias and Castle. 

“Get. Out.” He snapped. Frias waited to see what Castle would do, and to his surplice, Castle bowed his head and led the way out. They fit into the elevator and Begin the ride down. 

“I feel like that was a waste of time,” Frias said, watching Castle pace in the elevator. 

“Donna has not seen the future,” Castle said. 

“First time for everything?” Frias suggested. 

“Not for her,” Castle said. Which meant Donna had seen something, and it was probably really important. Frias crossed his arms and tapped his fingers on his elbows. 

“Regardless, I don’t think her werewolf packmate is going to let you near her again any time soon.” 

Castle gave Frias a sharp, surprised look. 

“Outside,” Castle said in that mono-word commanding way of his. Frias was already starting to dislike it. He hadn’t taken orders in the field from anyone in a long time. His cover required that he at least play along with Castle, for now.

They left the building and back to their cars. Castle paced again, then pointed at Frias. “Ward us,” he commanded. 

Frias sighed and traced the simple ward on the trunk of the car. 

“Go on,” He said. 

Castle filly stood still, glaring at Frias in a way that stated he really didn’t trust him. 

“Donna’s position in Philly pack isn’t common knowledge. How did you even know Happy was a were-creature?” 

“I’m not blind or stupid.” Frias sighed. “Magic is handy for a lot of things.”

Castle continued to stare Frias down, and Frias got the feeling Castle didn’t trust much about Frias, including the very real government agency Frias was pretending to be part of. 

“You’re little branch of the FBI doesn’t inspire much in the way of confidence around here,” Castle warned him when Frias refused to back down from his stare. 

“So I’ve heard,” Frias said. He knew there were internal issues with the preternatural branch of the FBI. He’d been sent to clear a few of them up in the past. It looked like he was stepping into the aftermath of issues he didn’t have a real grasp on, and that might complicate his cover, and his ability to do his job the easy way. “We never got Donna’s vision, and if we wait too long, the vision will fade.” It was well known that prophets needed to have their words recorded because, as time passed, their memory’s did as well. Maybe that was Donna’s game, maybe she was hoping to forget what she had seen.

“We’re not getting anything out of her today.” Castle rubbed his hands over his face. “She’s never done that before.”

“She’s got the money to have a healer on call. She should be functional by tonight.” Frias wanted that vision the more he thought about it. If she really was as good as Castle thought she was, her vision might just make his life a lot easier in the longer run.

“If she’s feeling better, she’ll probably be at her friend’s club, Midsummer, tonight. They’re doing a charity concert thing for local musicians. Donna is a big supporter of the local music scene.” Castle watched Frias, waiting for his reaction. Frias just grinned and shrugged. 

“Lucky for me, I need a night out.”

“Just keep me in the loop, whatever you find out.” Castle didn’t wait for a reply, he just walked over to his car and got in. Frias wiped out the slice glyph and went to his own car. A night club full of up-and-coming musicians wasn’t a decent trade-off for Maui, but it was better than sitting around in whoever room he found on Air BnB the rest of the night. 

He scrolled on his burner phone app, looking for a place that was available for the next week or so. He found a place that looked decent enough without being too noticeable. He waited to stay under the radar, as Staker put it, and that meant living under it too. It only took a few minutes for a reply to come through, and Frias was off, following goggle maps to his new home away from Maui. 

Frias hadn’t been intimidated with threats about finding places to live while he was in Philly. He found an Air Bnb through the app on his burner phone. They thought they were renting to an Edward Williams, and the little apart met he’d found on the west side of Philly would make it much easier to safely ward the place. Public spaces like hotels or motels made the logistics of privacy wards difficult. Apartments, especially ones like this where he had his own door to the outside, were much easier since there was an expectation of privacy. 

The place was one of the newly renovated warehouse buildings that now catered to a rejuvenating neighborhood. His view was of the Schuylkill River and the green trees that surrounded it. He liked the nature trail between the river and his door. Not only for the view but because the natural barrier would make his own wards stronger. The place was also furnished, even if the furniture was low-end self-assembled budget items. It did have a sweet queen size bed, with a fairly decent mattress. It also had functional AC, and he acknowledged that he’d become spoiled by the climate control. 

Frias dumped his bags in the bedroom and grabbed a clean set of clothes, and his toilet bag. He wanted a shower to scower off the travel stink and smell of death, even if he was the only one who could smell it. * it’s in your head* he reminded himself. Still, he’d feel better after the shower. 

He stripped out of clothes as the shower ran hot, his skin starting to pink up some accenting the white scars from combats past. The most impressive set was the twin claw marks across his chest, where the demon had tried to steal his heart. 

He stood in the shower, letting the water run over his pudginess, washing away the tension from earlier. He lathered up with fragrant Bulgari soap and let the perfumes soothe his mind. He started sorting his thoughts on the assent so far. He wasn’t sure how much of the past murders he needed to see, judging from the first, it was clearly ritualistic in nature, but why? It reminded him far too much of that hellish battle back home. He wondered if that was what had scared Donna so badly. 

He stepped out of the shower, dried off his hair, and styled it again. He dressed in his much more striking non-work clothes. Casual dark blue pinstriped pants, a deep v-necked white t-shirt with bold stylized line-work Flowers in black printed in a wrap-around pattern, and a loose-fitting button-down shirt that boasted a striking colorful smattering of jewel tones. During the day, the combination would have turned heads. At the club, he’d probably be understated, except for his gun and dagger. 

He picked up his phone and began to search for the club Castle had mentioned. He found it and saved the location, he turned to grab his wallet, then dropped everything and turned drawing his weapon. 

His wards hadn’t been triggered, but he knew someone was with him. His heart raced as he fought down the urge to fire blindly. The TV in the living room started to blare what sounded like an action movie. He lowered his weapon wit a mental swear. He already knew who this was, and he wasn’t at all happy about it.

Frias walked out to the living room, his gun down by his side. When he saw who was sprawled there, he serious,y considered shooting the man anyway, Evan if it wouldn’t kill him. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Frias growled. 

“We don’t Get HBO on the other side of the veil,” Alamat didn’t take his eyes off the TV. Cars were crashing and driving through fire. “Do you know how many channels you’ve got? And at least a hindered of them are porn.” 

“Only you would care about that,” Frias shook his head and went to the kitchen to see what was in the cub bards when he was in a mood, which he was now, baking helped. 

“Still doing the cookie thing when you get stressed?” Alamat tipped his head over the back of the couch to watch Frias with golden-brown eyes. His black hair curled slightly around his ears and just dusted the tops of his eyes. He smiled with sensual lips set in his sharply angled face. He’d be beautiful if Frias didn’t know how fucking annoying the immoral could be. 

He wore shiny black jeans with stylishly places holes among artfully splashed acid wash. His printed teeshirt was something complicated, and Filippo tribal on a periwinkle blue. He watched Frias fruitlessly search the cub bards, then patted the couch. 

“Come over here, _kamatayan_ , we need to talk.” 

Frias narrowed blue eyes at the immortal. He didn’t know much about the man, who he was or who he really served, other than ‘the gods’, to which he meant the old Filipino pathos. Alamat never said who, and Frias had given up asking.

“I hate that nickname,” Frias said. The word just meant ‘death,’ and though he might rave earned such a name, he didn’t like it. Alamat just smiled at him, a faint luminescent in his holy eyes. Frias felt his lip curve in a snarl before he tampered it down. He grabbed a chair form the simple dining set and sat backward in it facing Alamat. “What do you want?”

The immortal reached over and turned the TV off with the remit, tossing it carelessly on the comfortable before stretching out, so he now lounged on the couch, looking up at Frias. He swallowed back a wave of desire. He’d made the mistake years ago for falling into bed with Alamat, and now the immortal constantly worked at seducing him again. 

“I want what I always want,” Alamat said, his lashes fluttering at Frias. “To talk.”

Which was oddly the truth. Alamat sometimes showed up just to chat. It was weird. What Frias found stranger was that on those occasions, Frias actually like the man. Alamat was surprisingly aware of human world relations and could be counted on for robust discussions about religion, politics, and society. He even liked movies, and they would often discuss the more popular action flicks. This didn’t feel like one of those times, though. 

“Fine, talk,” Frias called his bluff, and Alamat’s lips twisted up in a pouty smile. 

“I have a message for you,” Alamat purred. Frias felt his skin tickle. 

“The last message you gave me killed off most of my team and ended my career int eh military.” 

Alamat shrugged like it hadn’t meant much. It did. It was why Frias was tethered to Alamat whether he liked him or not, and he knew Alamat valued his service very much. Frias knew he was valuable to those Alamat served as well, as evidenced by the soul contract he’d been tricked into as a child. But rather than see him as an individual, they saw him as a weapon, much like his government had. 

Alamat stood in a gravel motion and walked over to Frias, his eyes locked on Frias. He reached out slowly to slide his long-fingered hands down Frias’ arm, taking his hand and Ting the palm up. 

“This is for you,” Alamat said, placing something cols and metallic in his palm and curling Frias’ fingers over it. His hands lingered on Frias’ and Frias could feel the warmth of a Filipino spirit radiating through him. Alamat was the closet thing he got to touching wild magic anymore. Alamat was like a space heater or the sun, and Frias couldn’t help the needed feelings he had to soak in Alamat’s presence. The immortal routinely took advantage of that. 

Frias closed his eyes for one glorious moment, his very bones easing at the feel of magic washing over him. Then he felt full lips on his own, and his eyes fluttered open. Alamat’s tongue pressed against Frias’ lips, and he parted them without a second thought. They kissed a long moment, each second making Frias hungry for more. He stood suddenly, knocking the chair away and pulling Alamat against him. They were mostly equal in height, and Frias took advantage of it. He tugged at Alamat’s clothes, ruining greedy hands over his tight brown skin, relishing the hum of magic he felt singing in the immortal’s core. Alamat broke the kiss with a breathy laugh.

“You only want me for my magic,” he teased, and because it was true, Frias shoved the man towards the bedroom. Alamat took his cue and shimmied towards the bed, slinking out of the tight pants and then his black silk boxers. Frias took his time following, Turing to talk himself out of this, but the hunger for the magic that hummed in Alamat was too strong, and he was like a junky.

Alamat slid on to the bed, looking over his shoulder a Frias. He presented his ass teasingly, and Frias could see how eager Alamat was as well, his robust cock filled out and pointing just left of center. Frias stepped out of his last bit of clothing as he slipped up behind him. Rubbing Alamat’s perfect ass as he pressed his own hard-on between Alamat’s cheeks. 

“I’m a slut,” Frias moaned as Alamat rubbed against him. 

“True, but so am I,” Alamat arched up to warp a hand around Frias’ neck, pressing them together. “Let’s be sluts together?” 

Frias reached around and stroked Alamat’s length. Regardless If he was just about to use the man, he still wanted his partner to enjoy this as well. And as many times as Frias and Alamat had fucked in the past years, he knew how to handle the immortal. Alamat twisted his head for a sloppy kiss and then arched as Frias rocked against him, stroking him. Frias bit down on the man’s shoulder, moaning as he felt the magic spill over him. Somewhere in his mind, he thought that Alamat did this because he knew Frias could tap his inner magic. It was his way of paying Frias back for the tasks he asked. 

Whatever the reason, Alamat made him greedy, not just because he could suck power off him, but he was beautiful and fucking amazing in bed.

“Are you just going to tease me all night?” Alamat said, wrapping his own hand around Frias’. 

“I don’t have any lube,” Frias peppered Alamat’s back with kisses. 

“Luckily, I do.”

Frias felt a tug in the magic he was feeding on, and then Alamat was pressing a slender bottle into his hand. Frias took the bottle and shoved Alamat face down on the bed. He flicked the bottle open and drizzled the immortal’s lube over his cock and down Alamat’s ass. He rubbed the lube, teasing Alamat with soft little pushes against his puckered hole. Alamat moaned, shaking his ass for more. Frias slid a finger in, then two, stretching Alamat as he finger fucked him. 

“Ugh! I want your dick!” Alamat cried, stroking his own cock as Frias pumped him. 

“You just want it hard and fast, huh?” Frias teased now. “Maybe I don’t? Maybe I want to draw this out some?” 

“That would be dangerously close to us being romantic,” Alamat said, looking at Frias over his shoulder. Frias frowned, and lined himself up with Alamat’s body, shoving himself in with one hard stroke. Alamat sired out for real, clutching at the bedsheets, as Frias stet a hard pace. He pulled Alamat hard against him, and then practically pulled him off. Each thrust was like the first, unrelenting, and defiantly not romantic. Alamat swore and panted and cried out, he clawed at the bed, and his whole body shook. Frias watched as he fucked the man across the bed, then buried himself deeply in Alamat’s body, cumming hard. He felt Alamat pulse around him, following him over. Frias pulled himself out and fell to his side, panting. He was awash with fiery immortal magic, but even that couldn’t keep the empty feelings out of his afterglow. 

Alamat laid down beside him, not cuddling, just sharing space. He propped his head up in one hand and looked over Frias. 

“You’re not bad looking, you know?” Alamat said, and Frias looked at him, confused. 

“Why do we do that?” He asked, feeling more and more empty from the experience. Alamat shrugged.

“It’s fun, you’re good in bed, and I like you.” Alamat booped Frias on his nose. “But I’m immortal, and you’re not.”

“So this is it? You bring me messages from some unknown gods, we fuck, and you run off?” Frias turned just a little to see Alamat more fully. There was a dark cloud passing through is eyes, almost like regret. 

“We don’t have too,” He said softly, like an apology. Frias reached up and touched Ala mat’s face, like a lover, might do. Alamat closed his eyes briefly, then pulled Frias’ hand away, kissing the palm. “You’ll always have my favor,” Alamat said. Then in a blink, he vanished discarded clothes and all. 

Frias sighed, laying down again. Sure he was full of god-like power right now, but he still felt used up.

He let himself wallow a bit longer, then forced himself to get up and refresh his look. He had a high-end club to go to, and he didn’t want to be late.

  
  
  
  



	3. A Boy, a Bar, A Demon.

Midsummer was located somewhere on the Near North Side by a monument Frias didn’t know the name of. He knew better than to try and drive in a major city unless he absolutely had to. He didn’t like driving much, to begin with, and he didn’t know his way around. Besides, he wanted to get a drink after the day he was having. Frias tipped his Cobbie as he stepped out near the club a little before 8 o’clock.

The area was more up-and-coming than worn down, even if the buildings in the city were some of the oldest in the country. The night was muggy, but nothing he wasn’t already used to. He reminded them a little bit of home, and since he was already in a melancholy mood, he let a little bit of homesickness washed over him. He reached inside his pocket, where he had stowed the little golden medallion that Alan Alamat had given him. He looked at it on his drive over. He could feel the buzz of magic all over the little gold circle, stamped with what most people would think with St. Mary. It wasn’t an icon, though, or at least not one any Catholic saint. As thin as the charm was, it was heavy in his hand, and it buzzed when he touched it. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was for just yet, but Alamat had a way of giving him useful items long before they were needed.

Frias walked up to the Midsummer club doors weapons warded so as not to be noticed. No one would casually notice either the dagger he carried openly or the gun he had tucked at his back. His personal shields rooted in his bones expanded just enough to hide the feel of magic on him. To anyone looking, magically or otherwise, he would appear perfectly normal.

Young people were gathered around several outside chairs. Most had drinks, and they were also smoking. Frias wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell of fancy vapor and cheap tobacco. He was glad his habits ran towards the love of food and not a love of nicotine. Calories can be burned off; tar was forever. 

He headed for the door, not turning even the first head. Even with his spiky pink hair and has bold colored clothes, he blended so perfectly with the crowd. No one would ever notice him. He knew how to work the club scene. He even enjoyed it. He could hear music screaming from inside as someone worked to wail over the sound of the instruments banging away in the background. Frias had very open tastes when it came to music, but whoever was playing tonight was working his eardrums over.

Frias was stopped at the door by a bouncer who was his thick as a Greek column. The man was dark and bald and intimidating looking. Frias had to appreciate it. The guy had clearly gone through quite a bit of effort to look this way. He stuck out a thick, fingered hand.

“ID,” he said in a deep voice. As Frias fished out yet another fake ID, he felt a tingle of magic working its way up his wards. It was just a simple scanning spell meant to pick up mundane magic if there was such a thing. Frias wasn’t worried about either the fake ID or the scanning spell. Even at this long enough that if you didn’t want someone to know something about him, they were going to find out. 

He gave the bouncer friendly smile, and the bouncer didn’t seem impressed. He wondered if he was losing his touch? Maybe his boyish face wasn’t so boyish anymore. Maybe he needed to start working on more of the handsome angle, and less of the adorable? The bouncer only maybe pause when he saw the state on the driver's license. Frias had picked Illinois, it was far enough away to be believable, and he was told his Midwest accent was pretty dead on.

“Try not to be too much of a tourist,” the bouncer grumbled, and Frias did his best to look amicable. There was no point in pissing off a were-creature, especially when you were in their territory.

He stepped inside and let his eyes adjust a moment. The place was crowded, but not in a way that made it impossible to navigate. The bar was busy with people waiting in lines to order and received drinks. There was a noticeable line for the bathroom, but these were both par-for-the-course of the more popular clubs. Music clanged in the background, and most people were crammed on the dance floor, trying to move to music that had no rhythm that Frias could discern. He was a tiny bit disappointed and helped maybe the band would change while he was here. He liked to dance more than he liked to drink. 

Still, it wouldn’t do to simply lurk in the shadows, that would be the quickest way to get noticed in a place like this. He made his way up to the bar looking to see what was offered. The bar had one of those classical colonial looks all the new microbrewery bars seem to be running with these days. Frias put arguments of colonialism Golden age syndrome out of his mind. Maybe if Alamat ever came back just to talk, they could bitch about that together. Frias saw that most of the drinks on tap or microbrews and craft beers that all seem to originate either from the city or nearby. The bar shelves behind were stocked with an impressive collection of high-end, and medium ground liquor. Frias was once again reminded of the fruity drinks with umbrellas in them that he wasn’t drinking right now. 

Frias mulled over his bad mood as he waited to order his drink. He figured he needed to snap out of it. He was simply distracting himself by letting himself be grumpy. He was technically working. He should probably keep his wits about him. 

When the space in front of him cleared and he looked up, he noticed the bar was at full capacity with three bartenders working either end and in the middle. He considered himself lucky to have chosen the center bartender. He was enough to snap Frias out of his bad mood. He almost felt his mouth watering at the sight of him.

“The man towered over Frias by nearly a foot, which wasn’t to say much, Frias only came in it 5’3” in good shoes. Still, this guy was over 6 feet. His shoulders were broad and filled out the black short-sleeved button-down shirt that seemed to be uniform of the bartenders. It tucked nicely into a pair of black slacks that closely hug the man’s ass. He had a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, and an expertly trimmed beard that faded up to his hair that was cut short on the side and topped with curls. In the constantly shifting light of the club, Frias picked up that the man had a deep red hue to his hair, and when he looked at Frias, his deep blue eyes sparkled with an inner light that gave away his preternatural status.

Frias took longer than he should looking the man up and down. The man stared back with an unwavering intensity that would’ve scared off most people. Frias held the man’s gaze defiantly, refusing to look away from such a captivating image.

were-creatures didn’t frighten him. He honestly found most of them to be more human than humans themselves. Be it their natural animal inclinations, or just the fact that they had to band together, were-creatures tended to be a lot less volatile than most normal humans.

The man smirked as Frias refused to look away. He could tell the man was scenting the air around him, and he knew that he’d be able to smell Frias' arousal. He could have blocked that, locked his own sense behind his shields like he did the feel of his magic. But walking around a bar full of were-creatures, smelling like he wasn’t there was asking for trouble.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked, his gruff southern accent only adding appeal. Frias felt himself swoon inwardly. He couldn’t look away from the stunning blue eyes and saw them flickered down to his mouth. It was a tell Frias knew how to read. It made his dick stiffen. He licked his lips and watched the man follow the motion.

“What if I said you?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the man drawled in a confident way to let Frias know he wasn’t lying. Why would he be? “But I’m on the clock.” He watched Frias a moment longer.

“Amaretto sour,” Frias requested. The man grinned sharp white teeth and began to mix the drink. It was a simple blend of amaretto and sour mix over ice. The bartender slid the glass over, his hands lingering on the tumbler as Frias reached for it.

“Do you want to open a tab?” the man asked. Frias could think of several things he wanted to open for the man, but he just pulled a bill out of his wallet and handed it over. 

“No, but keep the change,” Frias slid his fingers around the glass tumbler, feeling the heat come off the man’s own. The bartender took the bill and tucked it away in the till quickly.

“Names Cayrd. Come back to me when you want another drink, all right?” 

Frias raised the glass and tipped it towards Cayrd. The man returned a wink, and Frias wandered away from the bar, his mood slightly elevated now. He knew he wasn’t going to go back and get another drink, and he knew he probably wasn’t going to see Cayrd ever again outside of the club, but it was nice to have something shiny to think about in the shower tomorrow.

Frias made his way through the crowd around the club, scanning the faces for either Happy’s or Donna’s. He spotted Happy at a seat in the back corner table taken over by a large group of people. In the center set Donna looking much better than she had when he left her.

Beside her sat a pretty black woman wearing a body-skimming silver dress gesturing animatedly with her red painted nails. They seem to be having a good conversation, both of them smiling and laughing. The people surrounding them pressed in close, everyone drinking with several empty glasses in the middle of the table. They looked friendly and relaxed.

That changed when Happy spotted Frias walking up. Frias sighed and took a long drink on his drink. It was a good mix, and he was going to regret not finishing it. Happy got up from the table and honed in on Frias like a missile. The few people between them instinctively got out of the way. He worked his way directly in front of Frias, the toes of his purple velvet loafers touching the pointed tips of Frias' low boots. Frias had tilted his head back in order to look the man in the eye, but this wasn’t unusual for him, so he didn’t even faze him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Happy demanded.

Frias held up his glass. The ice clinked backward, sounding like a low chime.

“It's obvious is in it?”

“Get out,” Happy growled. It was a sound that should have intimidated him, should have made the hair stand up on his neck. Instead, it made him grin brightly at him. 

“Oh, I’m not gonna do that. I have unfinished business with your boss, though I am more than happy to pay for the information I want.”

“Is there a problem,” Cayrd moved up the side of the two of them, taking a stance beside Happy, glaring down at Frias. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a look of disappointment there. Frias could relate.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Happy replied.

“You are very optimistic,” Frias said cheerfully. “But I’m not here to fight. I’m just here to get information.” Frias was aware of the people in the bar repositioning themselves around the three of them. Some were acting more like guards than spectators, and Frias assumed that those were the other members of Happy’s pack. They were giving away their positions too soon, he thought. But that was good for him.

“I just paid over $1000 to get rid of the migraine from hell,” Donna said, walking over to them on heels that seemed like they should be impossible to stand in. She paused just behind Cayrd and Happy.

“You want me to reimburse you?” Frias asked, keeping his face and tone cheerful. The other woman at the table joined Donna. The way Cayrd and Happy shifted for her told him everything he needed to know. She might have looked petite and high-end, but their deference to her spoke volumes.

“What’s going on?” she asked her deep brown eyes focused unwaveringly on Frias.

“This is the asshole that came with Castle this afternoon, Emma,” Happy introduce them. She pursed her silver-painted lips and narrowed silver winged eyes. Frias didn’t even blink as he met her gaze. The problem with most were-creatures was they believed in the myth of the alpha. It was true that were-creatures varied in power and those with more tended to rise to the top. It wasn’t true that that necessarily meant they were good leaders. Frias, on the other hand, looked completely harmless most of the time because he knew he could go one-on-one with damn near anything that got thrown at him.

“I’m just trying to complete the information gathering that we attempted this afternoon.” Frias beamed, though he knew the smiled didn’t reach eyes. 

“You’re not welcome, so just get out” Emma pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. It was the most disapproving mother stance he’d seen in a long time. He almost felt like listening.

Frias ignored her and looked directly at Donna. “We need to talk, and I think you know that.”

“That’s it,” Happy reached out and grabbed Frias by his rather expensive shirt. He yanked him up to the balls of his feet, and Frias wrapped a hand around Happy’s wrist to keep his shirt from tearing. There was no point in ruining good clothes.

Frias smirked up into Happy’s face, tossing his glass towards the man’s head. Happy reacted quickly with his free hand snatching the glass, blocking his own view. Frias brought his knee up into a Happy stomach, and with a little tap of magic to give it some extra oomph, he rammed his leg into Happy. 

On a whoosh of expelled air, Happy dropped Frias, who landed catlike on his feet. He hopped backward out of arm's reach, still smiling. He hadn’t hurt Happy, just surprised him. But he was free, and that was the important part. Happy snarled at him, throwing the glass to the side. Donna and Emma both called his name to rein him in. 

Frias opened his mouth to say something smart about Happy being a good boy in staying put, and then his wards flared around him like an emergency alarm, and he turned his head, sensing immediately something wasn’t right. He moved without a second thought, his face dropping any pretense of emotion and going battlefield blank. 

He moved faster than Happy had anticipated, which gave him an edge. He shoved Donna back on her treacherous heels using himself as a cover while he drew his gun in a smooth motion. Happy rush at him in what seemed like slow-motion. Emma, staggered back only to rebound forward, even Cayrd turned, a surprised look on his face.

Then the wards on the club shattered, and the rebounding magic boomed around them, taking out the sound system and thrusting the club into an unnatural quiet. 

Frias' personal wards flared in recognition, and Frias yanked Donna up, holding her out of the way of his weapon as he shoved her back towards the wall. It would be safer to have something solid at their backs if he was going to put himself between her and whatever the hell had just clawed its way out of the veil. 

People ran and dove out of the way, panicking and screaming at the sight of the gun. There had been too many crazy shooters for anyone to take him lightly. He counted on this, hoping the panic would clear the bar before the true damage could be done. It did, however, made it impossible for him to get a clear shot at the target approaching. Happy jumping in front of him didn’t help either. He contemplated just shooting the man in a nonlethal area. For a were-creature, it would incapacitate him for a few minutes. Long enough for Frias to assess the situation better.

Frias fired two shots at Happy’s foot and ankle. The man’s expression went from angry to surprised in an instant, and then agony seared over his face as the pain registered. Happy crumpled on a foot no longer able to bear his weight, and Frias got his first good look at the creature coming towards them.

Whatever glamour had been used to hide the thing evaporated around it like gray smoke. Hidden beneath was a scaly mottled gray thing, its shiny skin places and dull in others. Skin split upward in places where black bones stuck out, mimicking joints and limbs. Exposed muscle wrapped around flesh and bone alike, allowing the creature to move in some mockery of life. It had claws jutting out from what could’ve been its hands, and they tapped audibly on the floor as it moved cautiously forward. Where a head should have been was just a wide gaping maw filled with rows of teeth and dripping in black ichor everywhere. It raised a hand splaying the palm outward, and Frias knew that was how it would sense him. A tail whipped around from behind, rattling like a serpent’s low warning chatter.

This was why people believed in demons. This was why humans had divided the celestial world into the divine and the infernal. It was impossible for any normal mind to rectify this thing with the beautiful and breathtaking images of angels on high. Frias knew better.

All celestial creatures came from the same realm, and none of them were human regardless of how pretty they looked. Some of them, unfortunately, were much worse than others. This unnamed abomination was one such thing. Frias could feel the unholy hunger that radiated around the creature. It sucked at the ambient life energy in the club. The people themselves, their emotions, and vitality feeding it unknowingly. The fewer people that were in the club, the better this would go. 

Fortunately, those who brave enough to stay behind after Frias flashed his gun were wise enough to get the hell out now that this thing had appeared. Interestingly though, the monster didn’t seem to have any interest in the people screaming away from it. It had found its target, and Frias swore.

“Get her out,” Frias demanded, all but throwing Donna at Cayrd. He caught her and helped her stand upright. She was saying something to him and didn’t look pleased at all. Frias holstered his gun and drew the dagger on his hip. 

There was no easy way to kill this thing, Frias knew that much. Like the immortals that Alamat belonged to, the celestials did not fall victim easily to mundane weapons. Sometimes a weak being could be put down by magical bullets, but something like this required more hands-on intervention, unfortunately. 

The blade hissed as it came out of its sheath. It growled like a cat waking up, and he could feel its magic coil and stretch around him, tapping on his wards and recognizing him. 

Frias dropped his shields further, there was no point in hiding now. The infernal creatures were often drawn to strong magical power, and as far as Frias could tell, he was the strongest thing in the room. His gambit worked momentarily, and the infernal creature shifted its body towards him. It roared at him, a loud wet sound that made Frias want to gag. 

There was nothing to be done about this thing; it couldn’t be reasoned with, it was an animal from the celestial realms, and was akin to a raging beast here in the middle realm. The only safe way to deal with it was to put it down quickly.

Frias readied magic along with his hands, creating a physical shield that would repel an attack. 

The creature charged, and Frias swore out loud when he saw that it had changed direction from him, and gone directly for Donna and Cayrd.

Frias ran out it, noting how fast it could move. It would clear the floor before he could intercept it. He shouldn’t have put that much distance between himself and Donna. The monster was after her.

Cayrd acted quickly, pushing between Donna and the creature. He shifted faster than Frias had ever seen, and when he was done, his towering six feet had become almost seven, and his mass had adjusted to match. He braced his clawed feet into the cement and reached up like Hercules and the lion. Bracing the demon with his own furred hands, his claws digging into the lips of its maw.

Frias could see blood spurting from where Cayrd gripped the creature, but amazingly Cayrd had stopped its forward progression. Its arms were swinging up now; razor claws prepared to tear Cayrd apart. Frias lashed out with his own magic bending his will into a whip, spinning it around the creature’s limbs and trying to pull it tight. 

He wished this moment he could still tap wild magic around him, but the boost he had gotten from Alamat earlier was enough. Tendrils of his magic, brighter in color as they had been before, wound around the creature and pulled it back away from Cayrd and Donna. Cayrd let go but didn’t move from his spot.

The creature whipped its tail about, severing the threads of Frias' magic. It was free, and it had changed its focus. Frias was finally its target now, and it bounded upon him in two fast leaps. Frias raised his arms, one hand open, the other holding the dagger ready. When the creature finally collided with him, Frias forced his magic out again as a physical barrier. The creature’s claws burned through it, and he could feel the breeches in his core. But that was fine, better than actually being pierced by those things. 

Normally his shield wasn’t a permeable object, not from the outside; what would the point be? However, it didn’t stop him from reaching outside or driving his dagger into the core of the beast’s body. 

It gurgled and roared again, the six sucking noise that it made, making Frias gag for real. He hadn’t eaten much since he landed, and he thankfully only dry heave. He drugged his arms up using both hands to pull the dagger through the creature’s body, splitting it like a fish to be gutted. Pale blue smoke streamed from where the blade touched the creature. It howled in pain as the dagger did what it had been designed to do. It burned through the creature’s body, igniting its celestial makeup and causing it to incinerate itself from the inside out. 

The creature smashed against Frias' shields, Black ichor hissing as it dripped down. Frias constantly swore, cursing the creature back to the realm it crawled out of. Until he felt the blade pulled free, and he could see that he had rendered the monster almost in two. 

The blade hissed in his hand, traces of the creature's blood on it burning off like incense. The creature itself curling inward like a dying spider. Little blue embers burned inside its core, spreading outward, slowly consuming it as it lay there. Frias stepped away from it; the smell was indescribable. He tucked the blade back in its sheath and sat in a chair that somehow miraculously had not been knocked over. 

He looked up and around the room, there were only a few people left, most of them just the last ones out the door.

Emma and Happy, however, had shifted, they stood tall and magnificent as only were-creatures could be. Emma’s shiny black coat covered her entire body and flared around her face. She maintained a more human-like face in her shifted form. Happy, on the other hand, sported a full muzzle and a shaggy brown coat that made him look almost like a Golden Retriever than a wolf. Anything was possible, Frias thought.

Cayrd, on the other hand, towered over both, his body sleek and golden, Tufts of fur flared around his hands which had grown in size to look more like paws. His claws retracted, and he looked for all the world like a giant upright cat, right up until his face. He had a main of curly crimson hair that fell around his throat and shoulders like a mantel, his face was short and stopped as if smashed in one too many times, and two massive fangs hung from his slightly extended upper jaw. He didn’t look like any cat Frias had ever seen, no lion or tiger. Cayrd looked around the room steady, despite the situation. Donna stood off to the side of him, holding her head.

Getting to his feet, Frias took a wide step around the ashes of the creature. He felt his core twinge. He’d used a fair amount of magic, and the dagger itself pulled on him in ways he didn’t wish to think about. In other words, he was sore, but not from a pulled muscle, more like a pulled will. The space behind his eyes throbbed. He could feel a headache coming on. He rubbed angrily at his temples as he made his way over to the three were-creatures

“You killed it?” Happy asked his words sloppy in his nonhuman mouth.

“It’s what I do,” Frias didn’t keep the weariness from his voice, he looked over at Donna who was tossing her high heels away.

“I didn’t know you were a mage,” she said in an almost accusatory way. Frias thought he could understand her frustration. It appeared a lot of what she was used to knowing beforehand was somehow being kept from her. It was probably maddening if you were used to being able to know things before they happened.

“Are you ready to talk yet? Or should we wait for the next creature to crawl out of the ether?” Frias didn’t bother to be friendly now. He was tired, and his pleasant act hadn’t gotten very far anyway.

Donna nodded her eyes fixed on the ashes of the creature as it disintegrated completely. “Yes, it’s time we did.”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

“What the hell happened?” Ramirez asked as she walked into the bar, Guthrie was hot on her heels, and behind him came to more members of their investigation division.  
Frias waved them over, not moving from his spot halfway between where Donna and happy stood near the bar and the uniformed officers who had responded from the local station to a call of shots fired. They’d learned quickly this wasn’t a problem they wanted to handle.

The matter with the dead demon was preternatural in nature, which meant the jurisdiction was automatically conferred to Ramirez and Guthrie. It didn’t stop the officers from taking witness statements from the few people that were still there. Frias had to give them credit for trying to do their jobs, at least. Frias and pulled out his own fake badge in order to avoid questioning himself, the police hadn’t known exactly what to make of it, but the official-looking nature of it made them back off.

Frias just gestured at the ashy remains of the demon.

“I know what kind of demon they’re using,” he said when Ramirez got close enough.

“Are you serious?” Guthrie asked. “We’ve been working this case for six months in your here for less than 48 hours in someone already tries to take a hit on you?”

“Better me than any of you,” Frias said casually. He didn’t mean for it to be an insult, just a statement of fact.

“Obviously,”

“Were all very grateful for that since he’s the only reason we're alive tonight,” Donna said, walking over from where she had been tapping away at her phone. “Where’s Castle?”

“On his way back to headquarters according to dispatch,” Ramirez said, eyeing Donna.

“Special Agent Dagalak, I need to talk with Castle.” Donna ignored Ramirez and Guthrie. It didn’t sit well with either of them. Frias didn’t like the dismissive attitude either.

“Give me a minute,” Frias said, turning back to gun 300 for Mires. “The demon is dead,” he gestured at the pile of ash. “You can try testing the ashes, but I don’t know if it’ll get you anywhere. I’ll give Castle my report, and I’ll be sure to send you both a copy.”

The two detectives nodded, knowing this was the best it was going to be. Ramirez looked around the mostly empty building.

“This place is always packed, where all the witnesses?” she asked.

“Gone.” Frias shrugged. “They left as soon as the fight got serious, and my guess is many of them are going to want to be identified since they were shapeshifters. You’ve got a handful of witnesses.” He pointed over at Donna and the others with his chin. “I’m going to bring them back to the station with me.”

“This doesn’t make any sense, this attack doesn’t follow the MO at all.” Gun throwing frowned at everyone in the room as he took the space in. “It’s a bar, a public space. All the other victims were home alone behind a threshold when they died. Who the hell was this thing after?”

Frias tilted his head at where Donna was still typing away on her phone. Cayrd hadn’t said a word but was watching them with undisguised interest. Or more specifically, he was watching Frias, and the weight of those blue eyes made Frias very aware of his presence.

“My money’s on Donna. Which means I need to get her someplace safe for the next few hours.”

Donna finally looked up. “A few hours?” she sounded irritated. Frias ignored her.

“If you can cover the scene I’ll head back to the station,” his ability to pretend like he was a know it all FBI agent was limited. The situation was getting pretty real. He didn’t want to screw up something that could potentially be threatening to the larger society. Better to hand the scene off to a couple of people who actually knew how to handle it, then to send here continue to pretend like he did.

“Yeah, we got this,” Ramirez said, pulling out a recorder and a notepad.

Donna put her phone away and approached the small group. She stuck at her hand out at Guthrie, looking more than a little annoyed. There was a small black thumb drive in the middle of her palm. “I made a copy of the security feed for you. You don’t have permission to check anything else on the premises without a warrant. Everything you need should be on this thumb drive, if you need anything else, you’ll come to me first.”

Guthrie’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he looked from the thumb drive to Donna. He gave Ramirez a sideways look and then took the thumb drive out of her hand.

“Thanks.” He said dryly.

“All right then,” Frias jerked his thumb at the entrance in a clear signal that they were leaving. “We’ll see you at the station detectives.”

“Yup,” Ramirez said her attention already on the crime scene.

Frias led the small group out the door using his badge to get them free of the scene. “You said your car is outside earlier,” Frias said. “How close are you?”

“I bought the parking from the city when we finance the bar. It’s just out front.”

“The vehicle parked right outside the bar was a glossy cherry red Maserati Gran Torino that Frias wouldn’t have been averse to opening up in a long stretch of highway. He wallowed in a serious case of car envy for a second or two as he took in the expensive vehicle. It paid to be rich and not care if people noticed you.

Donna unlocked the car with the beat from her key fob got behind the wheel. Cayrd waited on the sidewalk expectantly, and Frias reach down to move the front passenger seat forward before gesturing for Cayrd to get in the back.

“Oh, I’m about a foot taller than you,” Cayrd pointed out with a slight smirk.

“That’s nice,” Frias let his eyes climb up Cayrd's chest to his face. “But I’m the federal agent with a weapon, and unless you want me to shoot through you in case of a threat, get in the fucking backseat,” Frias emphasized his point with a slight jerk of his head.

Cayrd was full-on grinning now. “Sure thing, darlin’."

Cayrd stepped up into Frias' personal space brushing up against him chest-to-chest before starting to cram himself into the back seat of the Maserati. Frias bit his lip, refusing to give ground and refusing to smile at the antic. The boldness of it made Cayrd much more attractive, and it didn’t help that he was good-looking enough to be lethal. Judging from the knowing look in Cayrd's eyes as he settled in the backseat, Frias wasn’t the only one who was aware of his attraction to the man.

The drive downtown was a tense, silent affair, broken only by the ringing of Frias' cell phone. He noted the name on the screen and didn’t hesitate to answer it with a roll of his eyes. 

“Line and location are not secure,” he said, looking in the rearview at Cayrd in the back seat. Shapeshifters were known for their keen hearing, among other enhanced traits.

“A soul-taker,” his boss said flatly, ignoring the warning.

“It’s dead,” Frias said.

“Were you able to trace who summoned it?” 

“No, there was no residual magic.” It hadn’t been surprising. Whoever was strong enough to summon one of those things was also strong enough to hide their magical trace. “I need a bit of backup.”

“I’ll see what I can pull together.”

“Can I make a request?”

“No, you’ll know when they arrive.” 

Frias pulled his phone away from him and scowled at the screen. He didn’t like knowing who he wasn’t going to be working with. He had a handful of people he actually enjoyed working with. People he trusted. He was almost positive whoever his backup was, wouldn’t be one of them.

“What’s a soul-taker?” Cayrd asked from the back seat.

“It’s rude eavesdropped on other people’s conversations,” Frias reprimanded him.

“Shouldn’t take phone calls will shapeshifters in the car,” he winked back.

Frias scowled at him and slumped in his seat. They were pulling up to the police headquarters downtown for the preternatural crimes Bureau was located. The intimidating historical building was five stories high with a newly built attached parking garage the Donna pulled into. The officer on duty directed them to the visitors' parking area, and Donna went with a grumble. Clearly, she didn’t like being regulated to the commoner's status.

Nevertheless, she drove her car where directed and protectively parked it as far away from any other of the run down beat-up cars that she could. 

As they got out of the car and Frias blinked his eyes, feeling much like his ears needed to pop. The whole block buzzed with the protective wards around the police station, and this close was like standing beside a power-line corridor. It took a moment for him to mentally tuned his shields. The fight with the demon took more of a toll than he cared to admit, and the magic of the shields here at the station rubbed raw against him like sandpaper.  
He wasn’t the only one who could feel it, Cayrd and Donna both seemed to be reacting in their own way. Cayrd pinched at his nose as if his sinuses are acting up, and Donna rubbed the soft spot of her temples looking towards the door that would lead into the station.

Frias led the way inside, better to get this over with and let it linger too long. Frias held up his fake badge to the site just behind the desk and stopped to take a moment to sign everyone in.

“Donna!” a female voice called from the waiting lobby on the other side of the check-in area. She was tall and elegant with strawberry blond curls that bounced around her shoulders. She was dressed sharply as if she just come from a courtroom.

“Rosemary! Oh, thank goodness!” Donna made her way straight over to the other woman as soon as they were cleared to do so. Frias hung back to watch as the Cayrd. 

Frias can see the glint of magic and the jewelry she wore. Professional looking blue stone jewelry set in silver stood out against her skin. It would’ve been low-key every day where were it not for the sparkle of magic set deep in the clear blue stones.

“Are you all right?” Rosemary was asking as she embraced Donna. The women were the height, even with heels. “You’ve got to learn to send longer messages. Meet me at the police station, is an explanation enough.”

Donna grinned at Rosemary Rosemary’s frowned.

“I’m fine, though I didn’t figure you want to wait for me at home. Not after what happened tonight.”

“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?” Rosemary looked over to where Cayrd and Frias were standing, taking the two of the men for the first time. She lowered her voice to a point where Frias couldn’t hear them and asked on a question.

“Is an FBI agent,” Cayrd responded with a grin. “A special FBI agent.” Guard walked past Frias, clearly able to hear the two women. He was chuckling as he did so, and he bumped Frias' shoulder.

It irritated Frias a little the Cayrd to hear what he couldn’t. Stupid shapeshifters.

Frias followed over to the two women as Donna smiled with a slight last and kissed Rosemary before turning to face them both.

“This is Rosemary Weston, my partner. Texted her earlier about what happened the night where I’d be.” Donna stared at Frias with a challenge in her eyes, like he was going to object or something. Frias just shrugged.

“Everyone’s allowed a lawyer,” Frias said in Rosemary’s eyes shot up a bit.

“I’m a senior associate at Berkeley and boys,” she said.

Frias nodded at her in recognition. He personally didn’t care, it didn’t matter to him if she was a lawyer not. It affected the police station and the people in charge of the case, which would be Ramirez and Guthrie. 

“Look at you, little Sherlock Holmes,” Cayrd said, standing behind Frias now. The heat from his body was radiating against Frias' back. It was incredibly distracting, and even though Frias had just been satisfied by a God no less, he still had an overwhelming desire for the shapeshifter behind him.

*This is what you get for going so long without a proper Fuck* free is thought to himself. He kept himself, for the most part, it was better that way considering his line of work. But it also meant that he went through massive dry spells, and though almond was always there if you wanted to reach out, it still came with strings attached that he didn’t care to think about. And now there was this hot hunk of a man behind him, it was clearly just as interested as he was, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Special Agent Dagllect?” the Sargent mutilated Frias' last name, calling for him.

“Yeah,” Frias rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the desk sergeant again. The man was setting a phone down in a cradle and pointing for them.

“The chief is expecting you, top floor. Just take these elevators all the way up.”

A buzzer sounded, and a set of security doors that blocked the way from the lobby to the rest of the building popped. The four of them made their way through the doors and to the elevators beyond. They all stepped into an elevator that cleared out as they approached. 

When they reach the fifth floor, they stepped out into a warren of desks and cubicles and moving people. Frias looked around, a little overwhelmed by the clutter and lack of free space.

“Good God, no wonder why everyone’s always stressed here. The Fung Shi of this office is terrible,” Donna said, holding Rosemary’s hand. The other woman nodded in agreement. Cayrd chuckled.

“You look lost,” the nearest detective at a desk said, looking up at the four of them.

“Capt. Castle’s office?” Frias asked, and the man nodded.

“I’d give you directions, but I was going to get coffee anyway. This way, follow me.”   
The detective led them deftly through the maze of desks and cubicles over to the far side of the floor were actual offices had been built into the side. There were also two other rooms looking more like break rooms than offices. The detective pointed at the official-looking glass door with castles name written on it, then left them to go get coffee from the sad-looking break room.  
Frias led the way and knocked on the door. Castle looked up and gestured for them to come in. He was wearing a different suit than the last one Frias had seen him in. He looked rushed as if he’d dressed in the dark, and judging by the time, he probably had.

“I’m torn between wondering if you’re okay and excited that you made such a huge break in the case.” Castle said in greeting.

“Yes, you wouldn’t want to appear tacky by being excited that I just had a bar fight with a demon tonight,” Frias said dryly. Castle nodded as if that was precisely what he’d been thinking.

“I’ll take any break in this case at this point,” he gestured at some sad looking sofas positioned around his somewhat larger than the average office. “Gimme a minute I still got some things to finish here, have a seat.”

Castle turned back to what he been doing at his desk in the rest of them sat down, trying to be comfortable. They arrange themselves in a way where Frias was sitting across from the startup coffee table from the two women in Cayrd propped himself on the arm of the couch beside them. It made him acutely aware of where he was in this dynamic.

It took about five minutes, and a phone call for Castle to clear up the ship storm of reports Frias was sure he was the cause of. There was a polite knock on his office door, and Castle got up, coming back to the conference area with a Chinese take-out bag that the uniformed officer had handed him through the door.

“Eat,” Castle said, setting the food down and sitting beside Frias.

“What, you can conjure food?” Frias look at the food dubiously, Chinese wasn’t his favorite, but he felt his stomach grumble. The use of magic took its toll, and since he used his own internal power, it needed to be replaced in various ways. One of which was feeding it, literally. 

“No, I just paid the uni for his food and gave him money to go get more. I have no idea what that is, but it’s probably food.”

Frias wouldn’t have felt guilty eating a stolen lunch, but he did feel weird having an audience who weren’t going to be eating with him. This didn’t seem like the kind of situation where you offered food to the others, though. So is not awkwardly as possible, Frias opened up the first of the containers finding mayfun noodles with overcooked vegetables and tiny pieces of pork. He found a set of chopsticks buried in the bottom of the bag and began to eat as confidently as possible. 

When he had been in active combat, He’d been issued special ration bars that tasted like crap but helped replenished his energy so he could continue using magic. He didn’t miss the taste of those bars, but the effects of them would be much faster than waiting for his body to digest the Chinese food. He slurped down a couple of mouthfuls and then looked over Castle.

“It’s been a while since I worked with someone who understood you have to keep your mage fed,” Frias said in the way of saying thank-you. Castle nodded with a shrug then turned his attention to the rest of the people in the room.

“Cayrd rowing?” Castle said, looking at the redheaded man right off the bat. “Do the Alphas know you’re here?”

Cayrd crossed his arms and gave Castle a thoughtful look. Then he relaxed and leaned forward a bit.

“I’m here on my own account,” Cayrd said.

“Then you can go,” Castle gestured at the door.

“But he’s a witness,” Rosemary said. “Shouldn’t you be interviewing him?”

“Ah, Ms. Weston, glad to see you were joining us as well. You don’t need to be here either.” Castle again gestured at the door. Rosemary stiffened, and her demeanor changed instantly from concerned partner to professional lawyer.

“I’m Donna's counsel of record for when she is counseling the police. And also you shouldn’t have seen her today without me present. It’s a violation of her rights.”

“The situation required immediate answers,” Castle looked at Donna. “Which we still haven’t received.”

“The city still has not made payment in full,” Rosemary said, folding her hands in her lap and looking at Castle. “Until such time-”

“It’s all right,” Donna patted Rosemary’s leg. “I think this once it’s okay. It’s not them who wants this to be known.”

Donna had everyone in the room’s attention now. She was clearly referring to the powers beyond them, the powers that gave her site.

“Please, though, can Rosemary and Cayrd stay?” The vulnerable look in her face made Castle pause, and Frias watched as the other man worked his way through whatever logical leaps he needed to make this work. He looked up the Cayrd, the hard look in his eyes back.

“What is discussed in this room stays here,” he said directly to the other man. Cayrd arched an eyebrow that gave a nodded confirmation. “We're drawing up contracts right now that you will all need to sign.”

“We're not signing anything until I looked it over,” Rosemary countered.

Frias kept eating his food, staying as far out of this as it was possible. He and Cayrd shared a look a few times, both of them smirking at the verbal tennis match occurring in front of them. It went on for a while before it was interrupted by a knock on the office door and a uniformed officer coming in with matching manila folders for everyone. They handed it over to Castle, who handed them out, instructing everyone to sign.  
Donna flipped her’s open, looking for the X and signing with a flourish. Rosemary look like she was going to protest the Donna shook her head.

“This is different, and it scared me, and I don’t want to do this tonight. Just sign the contracts. It’s the standard bullshit anyway.”

Rosemary snapped her mouth shut with a frown, and Cayrd chuckled, opening his folder. It took a moment to briefly look over everything and then sign the paperwork with a shrug.

Once Castle had collected everything, Frias wiped his mouth and set his mostly empty food container down.

“So, you saw the demon home in a vision?” Frias test on it directly.

“You mean the soul-taker thing?” Cayrd asked. He gave Frias a lazy smile as Castle’s head snapped around to look at Frias.

“You didn’t say anything about that,” Castle growled. Frias gave Carter a tired look.

“Couldn’t keep your mouth shut,” Frias said. Cayrd just shrugged. Frias fished around in his own pockets for a minute, pulled out several white pills, and swallowed them down. Castle kept watching him like a teakettle ready to boil.

“You killed a soul-taker tonight,” Castle finally demanded.

Frias figured he could lie, but it wouldn’t do any good.

“Yes,” he folded his hands. It was clearly not the answer Castle and wanted to hear, and his face got darker.

“What is a soul-taker?” Rosemary asked. “Not everyone is aware of the kinds of demons in the world.” She gave Frias an edgy look. She was sharp enough to know that something was up with him.


End file.
